


I volguessis venir amb mi, et deixaria el meu coixí

by WhiteWolfCraft



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Futbal Mini-Bang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:31:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteWolfCraft/pseuds/WhiteWolfCraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at Sergi and Marc's friendship from the day they met until the summer of 2013.</p>
<p>Or, the five times Sergi and Marc shared a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I volguessis venir amb mi, et deixaria el meu coixí

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Futbal Mini-Bang](http://futbal-minibang.livejournal.com/) round 2 on Livejournal. I am cross-posting it here.
> 
> My dear [pronoe ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pronoe/pseuds/pronoe) created the artwork for me and was so nice to beta for me as well. Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> Artwork can be seen [here](http://soyouwinagain.tumblr.com/post/98168355334)!

**I volguessis venir amb mi, et deixaria el meu coixí**

 

**1\. September, 2006**

“I heard that there is a new boy coming tomorrow,” Bartra said as he sat down, putting the tray bearing his lunch down on the table Marc had claimed.

“Oh?” Marc made a questioning sound, looking up from his own lunch. It drew the attention of the other boys at the table and Bartra grinned. Bartra had a knack for finding out information before it was official – Marc suspected that the female staff of the administration office couldn’t say ‘no’ to Bartra whenever he tried to sweet-talk information out of them.

“Yeah. I think he is your age, plays midfield,” Bartra continued, nodding his head at Marc when he mentioned the age.

“So I won’t be the newbie anymore?” Sergi Gómez called from where he was sitting next to Iván and Carles.

“You’ll always be the newbie!” Marc called back, laughing when Gómez faked a hurt expression. He stuck his tongue out at the other defender and turned back to Bartra.

“Do you know his name or from which team he is joining?” he asked, slightly curious now.

“Roberto something, I believe. I’m not sure where he is from,” Bartra shrugged, taking a bite from his paella.

“He has to be good though, if Barça wants him,” Marc mused, pushing his patatas bravas around with his fork.

“I don’t know, man. I mean, they also signed you,” Bartra smirked, yelping when Marc kicked his leg in rebuttal.

 

~*~*~

 

The next afternoon, Marc was working on his homework, his dorm room empty and quiet besides the sound of his pen scratching on paper. Adrià and Rubén had left after lunch, probably to go outside and kick a ball around, even on their free day. Marc wanted to join them but training to be a professional footballer wasn’t a good enough reason to not finish his math homework according to his teacher, so he was stuck inside, making calculation after calculation.

He sighed and dropped his pen, stretching his arms above his head, wincing when his elbows popped. He rolled his head to loosen the muscles in his neck before picking up his pen again. He only had a few more calculations to go.

“Marc!” someone called his name just as he was finished with the last of the calculations. He turned around to see a trainer standing in the doorway of his room, his hand resting on the shoulder of a boy around Marc’s age, a mop of unruly curls framing his face and falling into his blue eyes. He was clutching a large bag in one hand, the other stuffed in the pocket of his jeans.

“Yes?” Marc asked as he figured this was the new boy Bartra was talking about yesterday.

“This is Sergi, your new roommate. Can you help him get settled?” the trainer asked, patting Sergi’s shoulder, turning away before Marc could finish saying “yeah, of course.” Marc got up from his desk chair, crossing the room and holding his hand out to Sergi, smiling at him.

“Hi, I’m Marc,” he said, smiling wider when Sergi shook his hand.

“Sergi,” Sergi mumbled, giving Marc a tentative smile back, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

“Come on in,” Marc tugged Sergi into the room, picking up a second bag that was sitting in the hallway.

“You’ll be sharing a bunk bed with me, the top one, I already claimed the bottom one, sorry,” Marc chattered as he showed Sergi the room. It wasn’t a large room, just big enough to contain two bunk beds, two desks, a large bookcase and a large wardrobe for their clothes. The floor was messy, socks and shoes all over the place and Marc kicked them aside as he led Sergi further into the room.

“I don’t mind,” Sergi replied, looking around the room.

“Good! Then this is your bed,” Marc said, gesturing to the bed above his own, putting the bag down and hurrying to straighten the sheets on his own bed, making it look a little tidier.

“Who else lives here?” Sergi asked, throwing the bag he was carrying onto the bed and climbing up via the little ladder, the mattress squeaking a little under Sergi’s weight.

“Adrià and Rubén, we’re all on the Cadet B team. You’ll probably join us,” Marc answered, returning to his desk. He gathered his math stuff and put it away, done with his homework for today. He still had a reading assignment for English which he would do this evening.

“I think… euhm, I forgot the name of the trainer, but he said something like that,” Sergi agreed, zipping his bag open. Marc left him to unpack his things and started tidying his side of the room. He collected the dirty socks into his arms, scrunching up his nose at the smell of some. If his mother could see the state of his room, he would get an earful.

“Hey, where are your parents?” Marc asked, suddenly realising that there weren’t any fussing parents in their room, which was unusual. Marc remembered his own parents fussing over him when he joined _la Masia_ , making sure everything in the room was in order and helping him unpack.

“Getting coffee with my sister and one of the trainers. They figured I should try to settle in a little. They’ll be here in a bit to say goodbye,” Sergi answered from where he was putting his clothes away in the wardrobe.

“Ah, makes sense,” Marc nodded, dumping the dirty socks in the hamper near the door. His shoes were next as he gathered them and lined them up underneath his bed, out of the way.

When he got up from where he had been kneeling on the floor, a man and a woman who had to be Sergi’s parents entered the room, closely followed by a girl who looked like Sergi. Marc introduced himself to them before leaving the room, giving Sergi some privacy to say goodbye to his family.

He took his mobile out of his pocket as he left the building, a sudden desire to hear his parents and his little brother. He dialled the number and pressed ‘call’ when he found a quiet spot outside, sitting down with his back against a tree.

“Mum? Hi! No, everything is all right, I just wanted to hear your voice…”

 

He returned to his room when it was almost time for dinner, after having spent all that time on his phone, talking to his parents and Jan, catching up with everything that was happening back home in Lloret. There was no sign of Sergi’s family in the room and Sergi was sitting on his bed, looking up when Marc entered the room. He smiled weakly and Marc could see red rims around his eyes.

Marc smiled back, ignoring the red eyes. He knew it wasn’t easy to say goodbye to your parents for so long, with only a few visits per month. He was glad he had a phone so he could call them anytime he wanted, even if it wasn’t exactly the same as seeing them.

“It is time for dinner, you coming?” he asked, smiling wider when Sergi nodded and climbed down from his bed. They went to the dining room with a short detour to the toilets. They got their trays with dinner and Marc led Sergi to the table where his friends were already sitting.

“Hey, guys, this is Sergi, my new roommate,” Marc said as he put his tray on the table, sitting down, Sergi taking the seat next to him.

“Sergi, this is Marc Bartra, Adrià and Rubén, our other roommates, and Iván, Carles and Sergi Gómez,” Marc introduced the rest of the table.

“Hi,” Sergi greeted everybody, smiling a little. Bartra said a greeting back while the rest nodded or waved, their mouths full.

A few minutes later, Marc felt a little bad for introducing Sergi to his friends. His food was still untouched as Bartra and Gómez badgered him with question after question. He did learn that his new roommate was from Reus, transferred from Gimnàstic and preferred to play in the midfield.

“Oi, let him eat his dinner. You can interrogate him later,” Marc interrupted when he was almost done eating and Sergi only had had a few bites. Bartra pouted at Marc but Sergi shot him a relieved look. Marc rolled his eyes at Bartra before grinning at Sergi, getting a grin back.

 

~*~*~

 

Sergi quickly became one of Marc’s best friends. He was shy at first but he opened up quickly, revealing a wicked sense of humour. He fit in easily with Marc’s group of friends and was, besides Marc, close to Bartra and Gómez.

They started pranking their friends and teammates, stealing batteries out of phones and music players, putting itching powder in clothes and stealing towels when someone is showering. The best part was that their teammates didn’t suspect them at all, Marc not known for pranking and Sergi still a little shy around the team. Instead they blamed Gómez and Iván, more so after Marc and Sergi planted the stolen towels in their lockers.

On the other hand, their friends were slowly suspecting them behind the pranks and they got pranked in return, with Gómez and Iván getting revenge for the towel prank.

 

~*~*~

 

The furthest shower was running, the rest of the bathroom empty when Marc stepped inside. He hoped the sound of water hitting the tiles covered the sound of his and Sergi’s footsteps who was right behind him, carrying a bucket, the water inside it sloshing around.

They sneaked to the running shower, socked feet padding on the tiles, their shoes left behind in the hallway to decrease the sound their footsteps.

Marc held up a hand when they were in front of the shower, wanting to wait for the right moment to throw the contents of the bucket over the door. Sergi paused his movement when he got next to Marc, careful not to slosh the water too much.

It took a minute before the shower turned off and Marc shot Sergi a grin, mouthing “ready” at him. Sergi nodded, taking a step back and tightening his grip on the bucket. Marc held up five fingers, slowly lowering them one by one.

When he lowered the last, Sergi moved, throwing the content of the bucket over the shower door before dropping the bucket and running out of the bathroom, Marc following him on his heels. A loud yelp followed them out, together with the sound of a door slamming open.

“MUNI!” Bartra screamed behind them, just when they ducked out of the bathroom. Laughing, Marc snatched his and Sergi’s shoes from the floor and they ran to their room. Marc slammed the door shut behind them, bending over to gasp for air, leaning against the door.

“Do we want to know?” Adrià asked from where he was sitting at the desk, Rubén looking up from where he was lying sprawled on his bed, a schoolbook laying closed next to him.

“We threw a bucket of cold water over Bartra,” Sergi gasped out, also panting for breath. Adrià raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. Marc straightened up and shared a grin with Sergi.

“While he was in the shower,” Marc continued, finally bursting into laughter when Sergi grinned back. Adrià and Rubén shook their heads and returned to what they were doing.

“You’re dead if Bartra caught you guys,” Rubén commented absentmindedly and Marc winced at that. Pranking Bartra was fun unless Bartra knew it was them.

“Shit,” Marc mumbled uttered as he tossed the shoes he was still holding on the floor.

“He caught you?” Adrià asked and Marc nodded.

“Ai,” Adrià muttered, bending over his homework. Marc shared a look with Sergi who shrugged.

“He will probably pull something big as revenge, nothing to worry about right now.”

“Hopefully,” Marc nodded.

 

“AAH!” Marc woke up with a yell, soaking wet from freezing cold water. A dark shape moved above him and Marc scrambled away, falling out of his bed with another yelp.

“Payback,” he heard Bartra snarl as a bucket clattered onto the floor.

Bartra left the room, the door opening and closing, a beam of light briefly lighting up the mess that was his bed.

“What the hell?” he heard Rubén say as the light turned on, Adrià standing at the light switch.

“I’m guessing Bartra took revenge?” Adrià asked sarcastically. Marc got up, his pyjamas dripping water onto the floor. Sergi was leaning over the railing of his bed, looking down.

“We got to clean up before someone comes, we’re already on a warning,” he muttered, climbing down from his bed.

Rubén sighed loudly but got up, grabbing a towel. Sergi, Adrià and Rubén quickly moped up the floor while Marc slipped to the bathroom to change out of his wet clothes, drying himself off and getting into a new pair of pyjamas before returning to help them.

“Shit, where do I sleep?” Marc asked when the floor was dry, but his mattress still wet. He poked sadly at his wet pillow while Adrià and Rubén got back into their beds.

“We can share,” Sergi offered, “we pranked him together, it’s not fair that only you get to suffer.”

Marc nodded his thanks and grabbed an extra pillow out of the closet before turning off the light. He crossed the room in the dark and climbed up the ladder, shuffling onto Sergi’s bed. It was an incredibly tight fit, two growing teenagers trying to fit into one bunk bed together.

“Ouch,” Sergi muttered after Marc elbowed him in the side.

“Sorry,” Marc whispered back, trying to leave some space between him and Sergi.

It didn’t work well and their legs were still touching when they finally settled, their backs turned towards each other.

“Night,” Marc whispered, closing his eyes, hyper aware of how Sergi’s leg was touching his. Sergi mumbled a “good night” back and Marc started to relax when Rubén began to snore, the noise familiar. He was still aware of Sergi’s heat behind him but it was a reassuring presence and Marc slowly drifted off.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

**2\. July, 2007**

Sergi leaned back in his seat, headphones blocking out the chatter of people around him. His leg was bouncing up and down and Sergi was sure the lady in the seat next to his was shooting him nasty looks.

He couldn’t help it though, he was nervous.

This was the first time he travelled alone, no family trip with his parents and sister or an away trip with his team. It wasn’t that far from Reus to Lloret, just a little over two hours by bus with a transfer in Barcelona, but Sergi was still nervous about it, hence his leg jiggling.

“Sorry,” he muttered, turning more towards the window, watching the last sprawling neighbourhood of Barcelona flash by.

He startled when his phone went off, vibrating in his jeans’ pocket. He twisted awkwardly in his seat to get his phone out, wanting to avoid jabbing an elbow in the stomach of the lady next to him.

He relaxed back into his seat with his phone in his hands, opening the text he had received.

_Cant wait!_ It said, a reply to Sergi’s earlier text that he was in the bus to Lloret.

Before Sergi could reply, his phone buzzed again.

_Text me the time you arrive so we can pick you up_

_A little past one_ Sergi sent back, smiling a little when he got a row of widely grinning emoticons back.

His leg had stopped bouncing.

 

Sergi spotted Marc when his bus slowed down and stopped at the platform of the bus station. He was standing with a woman Sergi assumed was his mother and looking intently at Sergi’s bus. Sergi waved at him but Marc probably couldn’t see him through the tinted glass as he didn’t respond.

The lady next to him had already gotten up and was standing in the aisle, so Sergi had all the room he needed to reach up and get his duffle bag from the overhead rack. He joined the line of people shuffling out of the bus, squinting a little when he stepped into the sunlight.

“Sergi!” Marc called when Sergi moved out of the crowd of his fellow bus passengers. Sergi looked up to see Marc waving and he grinned, quickening his pace as he walked towards Marc.

“Marc,” he said when he got closer, letting his bag drop to the ground to pull Marc into a hug, slapping his back.

“Sergi, my mother. Mum, Sergi,” Marc said when Sergi pulled back, introducing his mother.

“Thank you for having me,” Sergi said politely as he offered his hand. Marc’s mother smiled back and shook his hand, pulling Sergi into a short hug.

“No problem, any friend of Marc is welcome,” she spoke as she released Sergi. Sergi picked his bag up and followed Marc and his mother to where their car was parked, bumping shoulders with Marc.

They drove through Lloret, leaving the busy, touristic part of the city behind as they reached the more quiet neighbourhoods, a few people out and about, a group of children playing football. Sergi wasn’t paying much attention to their surroundings as he and Marc caught up, talking about what they had done the few weeks they hadn’t seen each other after school had finished and the last game of the season was played.

The car pulled up next to a modest, semi-detached house and they got out of the car, Sergi getting his duffle bag from the trunk.

“Jan! Sergi is here!” Marc called out at the footballing children and one of the boys turned around, running towards them. He looked about ten and Sergi grinned when he noticed Jan had the same thick eyebrows Marc had.

“Sergi, this is my little brother, Jan,” Marc said when Jan reached them and Sergi bent down a little to slap hands with Jan.

“Hey there,” he greeted.

“Marc says you play football with him. Will you also play with me?” Jan asked, looking up at Sergi.

“Of course!” Sergi exclaimed, making Jan smile.

“Jan, get cleaned up, lunch is in a bit,” Marc’s mother called out and Jan ran inside, Sergi and Marc following him more slowly.

“He wouldn’t stop asking me about you and whether you would play with him. Apparently he doesn’t want to be a defender anymore,” Marc said, pouting at the last bit.

“He must have realised that midfielders are superior to defenders,” Sergi laughed, yelping when Marc punched his arm.

Sergi met Marc’s father during lunch and he was bombarded with questions mostly from Jan and a few regarding his family from Marc’s parents. After lunch, they went to Marc’s room to put Sergi’s bag away and to blow up the air mattress before spending most of the afternoon playing _FIFA 07_ and a bit of napping during siesta.

They explored Lloret on bike in the evening, when the heat faded away a little, making it a pleasant, warm evening. They wandered over the beach, kicking a ball around with some other guys before going back to Marc’s to watch a film.

 

~*~*~

 

The next days followed the same trend. Marc showed Sergi all his favourite places in Lloret, usually by bike but sometimes on foot. They explored the surroundings around Lloret and went on a few hikes and runs to keep their fitness levels up.

They played a lot of football, either on the beach or in the small neighbourhood park with Jan and a group of kids from around. Sergi, being the youngest at home, enjoyed playing with Jan and teaching him some tricks with the ball, Marc complaining in the background that Sergi was corrupting his little brother into a midfielder.

The last day was spent in _Water World_ , an amusement park near Lloret with Marc, Jan and their parents. Sergi and Marc explored the park together, only meeting up with the rest for lunch and a snack in the afternoon. They tried every slide, relaxing a little in the big pool before going down their favourite slides again.

Sergi and Marc helped Marc’s mother prepare dinner after they got home from the park and played some football with Jan until it was ready.

They went down to the beach that evening, something they had done almost every evening, Marc taking a ball with them. The beach was slowly emptying, but there were still some boys that wanted to play with them. Forming make-shift goals with their shoes, Sergi teamed up against Marc with three other boys, skins versus shirts.

 

~*~*~

 

“That goal was offside and you know it,” Marc argued while they biked back to his place.

“Are there even offside rules in beach football?” Sergi wondered, laughing a little.

“It was still offside!” he exclaimed. Sergi had scored the winning goal in their game after a quick counter attack but Marc was sure Sergi had been offside for it.

“You’re just sore that I fooled you,” Sergi grinned at Marc who huffed and glared at Sergi.

“Come on, race you home. Whoever wins is right about the offside,” he challenged, taking off before Marc could give a response.

 

Marc ended up winning, taking a sneaky shortcut he hadn’t shown Sergi and Sergi moped for half an hour, cheering up when he trashed Marc with Arsenal in _FIFA 07_.

Marc’s parents sent them upstairs when it got late and Sergi took a quick shower to get rid of all the sand that was itching his skin. He changed into pyjamas and settled onto the air mattress while Marc also took a shower. They talked, getting quieter the later it got. By the time Marc’s parents came upstairs, they had fallen silent.

“Marc?” Sergi whispered a few minutes after Marc’s parents went to bed.

“Yeah?” Marc whispered back.

“My goal was onside,” Sergi whispered a little louder, grinning. Marc made a noise that sounded like a growl and Sergi only warning was the rustling of Marc’s blanket before Marc fell on top of him.

“Ow,” Sergi groaned and he pushed at Marc, trying to get him off. Marc pushed back and the air mattress squeaked as they wrestled. Sergi was pinned down by Marc’s weight but he gave as good as he got.

He tried to buck Marc off the mattress but Marc anticipated the movement and got Sergi into a hold.

“Okay, I give, I give!” Sergi got out when Marc didn’t loosen his grip. “My goal was offside!”

“Good,” Marc said as he let Sergi go, rolling away from him.

“Ugh, my mattress is flat,” Sergi groaned after a minute.

“We’ll wake my parents if we pump it up again,” Marc muttered, standing up and offering Sergi a hand. Sergi accepted and let Marc pull him up.

“I don’t fancy sleeping on the floor,” Sergi sighed.

“You can sleep in my bed,” Marc offered. Sergi glanced at the bed. It was bigger than the bunk bed they had shared once and much more comfortable than the floor.

“Yeah, okay,” Sergi agreed, picking up his pillow and putting it next to Marc’s. He waited until Marc was settled before getting under the covers, keeping as much distance between Marc and himself as he could.

“You good?” Marc whispered, after Sergi stopped moving around, facing Marc’s back.

“Yeah,” Sergi replied, burying his head a little more into his pillow. “Night,” he mumbled.

“Night,” came Marc’s sleepy reply and Sergi closed his eyes, falling asleep a few minutes later.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

**3\. October, 2010**

“Hey,” Sergi’s head appeared next to Marc’s, hanging over the seat, “you want to room together?”

“Sure,” Marc nodded.

“Awesome,” Sergi grinned and his head disappeared again, settling back in his seat next to Rubén.

“You guys are weirdly co-dependant,” Bartra commented from where he was sitting next to Marc and Marc just grinned, not bothering to comment on it.

 

The trip from the airport to the hotel in Córdoba was short and it didn’t take long for the room keys to be handed out by the trainers. There were still a few hours to waste before the team would meet for dinner and the tactical talk and Marc planned on taking a nap.

He rode the elevator together with Sergi and some other teammates, letting Sergi lead the way to their room. He strolled inside after Sergi, putting his bag down and falling down on the bed. Like most of their hotel rooms, it were two singles pressed together to make one big bed, with a blanket and pillow on each mattress.

“Lazy,” Sergi said, the grin clear in his voice. The other mattress squeaked and Marc turned his head to see Sergi sprawled out on the other side of the bed.

“Who’s lazy now?” he asked, nudging his leg against Sergi’s.

“Gómez and Iván kept me awake, gaming into the night,” Sergi groaned, sitting up to take his shirt off and wiggling underneath the blanket.

“Same,” Marc sighed, copying Sergi, kicking his club sweats off too before getting between the sheets.

They moved out of _la Masia_ last season, now sharing a place close to the training centre with Bartra, Carles, Iván and Sergi Gómez. It wasn’t so bad living together with the six of them, but it could be crowded at times and Gómez and Iván were in the habit of playing video games until late in the night, keeping up the rest. Marc usually didn’t mind, but last night was noisier than normal.

“Can you set the alarm?” Marc asked as he yawned, burying his head into the soft pillow.

“Sure,” was the last thing he heard before falling asleep.

 

~*~*~

 

The game was a mess, Marc getting sent off at the end of the first half. He threw his shoes against the wall of the dressing room, before ducking into the showers, not wanting to face his teammates or Lucho.

He watched from the tunnel as his team lost and he angrily stalked to the dressing room when the final whistle went. He sat on the bench between Rubén and Miño, glaring at the floor, as Lucho talked the team through the game, pointing out the good things and what should be improved before the next game. He didn’t single Marc out to berate him for getting a red card and putting the team at a disadvantage and for that Marc was grateful.

Lucho left the room to let the team get dressed and Marc picked up his bag, getting out of the dressing room, ready to get back to the hotel.

“Marc,” a hand clapped down on his shoulder when he stepped into the corridor, Lucho’s voice making him pause.

“It can happen to the best of us, don’t beat yourself up,” Lucho continued, his voice reassuring.

“Thanks coach,” Marc mumbled. Lucho clapped his shoulder once before letting him go.

He got onto the bus and took a window seat, setting his bag on the seat next to him and putting his headphones on, playing his music loud. The rest of the team slowly trickled into the bus, avoiding where Marc was sitting, which suited Marc just fine.

Sergi was one of the last to get into the bus, Marc only noticing him when Sergi removed his bag from the seat and plopped down. He glanced at him while Sergi busied himself getting his iPod out of his bag and untangling the wires of his earphones. Sergi didn’t say anything to him as he put his earphones in and Marc was fine with that, not in the mood to talk. He leaned his head against the window and stared outside.

That wasn’t his first red card and it wasn’t as bad as the straight red he got during his first team debut but it still sucked to get one. Marc hated to let his team down, to let his coach down, and that was exactly what he did tonight. The tackle was clumsy, especially when he already had a yellow card on his name. Marc sighed and turned the volume of his music up.

A hand on his knee a few minutes later startled him and Marc looked up to see Sergi watching him. Sergi squeezed his knee and offered him a soft smile. Marc felt the corner of his lip twitch and he looked away, back out the window to watch the streets of Córdoba flash by, his bad mood slightly lifted.

 

“You okay?” Sergi asked after they got back to their hotel room, Marc forcefully tossing his bag on the floor.

“Not really,” Marc muttered, taking his clothes off and slipping underneath his blanket, rumpled from his earlier nap. He curled up, a heavy weight settling in his stomach, and Marc clenched his fist around a handful of blanket.

Sergi didn’t reply, just followed Marc, getting under the covers and turning the lights off.

“You are an amazing defender, some stupid red card doesn’t mean a thing,” Sergi said, voice filled with conviction and the heavy weight in Marc’s stomach became a little less.

“Thanks,” he mumbled. Sergi made a happy humming sound and his blanket rustled as he shifted around, settling in. Marc listened to Sergi’s breathing slowing down and the sounds from outside, drifting inside through the ajar window.

It took a long time before he fell asleep.

 

~*~*~

 

When Marc woke up the next morning, he was face to face with Sergi, their heads so close together that their noses almost touched. Sergi was still asleep, his eyelashes dark against his cheeks and Marc blinked, sleepily realising how creepy it was to stare at his sleeping friend and rolled away, back to his side of the bed. He dozed until the alarm went off and got up to go to the bathroom while Sergi was still in the process of waking up.

 

He was suspended for the game against Tenerife and sat the next two matches on the bench besides Sergi. The next away game with an over-night stay was also the game that Marc got to start again. They won comfortably, beating Alcorcón 3-1, and Marc roomed with Sergi again.

Marc woke up almost spooning Sergi, only their blankets separating them and Marc froze for a second, rolling away as carefully as he could, hoping to avoid waking Sergi up. Sergi didn’t move and Marc let out a relieved breath. He checked the time and closed his eyes again, his alarm not going off for another half hour.

The season continued, the team doing well, in the top half of the table, moving between seventh and fourth. Marc played often, switching between centre back and left back, depending on where Lucho wanted him to play.

He kept rooming with Sergi during away trips and kept waking up with only two blankets and a few centimetres between them, sometimes facing Sergi’s back, sometimes ending up face to face with him. The first few times, Marc quickly rolled away before Sergi could wake up, but sometimes he stayed where he was, wanting to see how Sergi would respond.

Sergi would move away when he woke up, showing no sign of being uncomfortable with waking up so close to Marc. Nor did Sergi mention it when Marc ‘woke’ up. It made Marc wonder how Sergi felt about waking up so close to his best friend and that made him question how he felt about it himself. He realised he didn’t mind waking up so close to Sergi. It was, if he was being honest, rather nice to wake up so close to someone he cared about a lot.

He shook his head at his thoughts and got up out of bed. Breakfast was in five minutes and he still needed to shower quickly.

 

~*~*~

 

Marc held the door open so Sergi could hobble into their room, wincing when he put weight on his injured leg. Marc closed the door and set his and Sergi’s bags down.

“How is the leg?” he asked, moving further into the room. Sergi was sitting on the bed, rubbing a hand over his leg where Marc assumed the injury was.

“Painful,” Sergi sighed, letting his hand fall off his leg.

“Only you can injure yourself while scoring,” Marc teased gently, getting ready for bed.

“Shut up,” Sergi grumbled, getting up and limping to the bathroom.

“How long will you be out for?” Marc asked when Sergi got out of the bathroom, taking his place to quickly brush his teeth.

“A few weeks probably. Got to go for tests when we’re back in Barcelona,” Sergi answered and Marc frowned at his reflection in the mirror.

“Sucks,” Marc muttered when he returned. Sergi was already under the covers, the only light in the room coming from the lamp on the nightstand.

“Yeah,” Sergi sighed.

Marc got into bed and clicked the lamp off, casting the room into darkness.

 

He woke up spooning Sergi, an arm draped over Sergi’s middle and he lay there for a few minutes before withdrawing his arm and rolling away.

 

~*~*~

 

“How are you coping?” Bartra asked when Marc got out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth.

“Coping with what?” Marc asked confused, sitting down on his side of the bed.

“Being without your weird co-dependant roommate,” Bartra clarified and Marc groaned. He should have roomed with someone else, someone more mature like Andreu or Martin, with Sergi still out with that leg injury.

“We aren’t that bad,” he replied, getting under the covers.

“Whatever you say,” Bartra grinned, clicking off the light. The blanket rustled as Bartra moved around, settling in.

“No funny things tonight, I’m not Sergi,” Bartra warned and Marc could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face in Bartra’s voice.

“Shut up,” Marc groaned, kicking Bartra. Bartra yelped and Marc smiled, satisfied. If he was honest, he was worried that he would wake up spooning Bartra the same way he usually woke up spooning Sergi and he was sure Bartra wouldn’t appreciate that.

“Night,” he mumbled, turning so his back was towards Bartra and closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly.

 

The next morning he woke up to Bartra’s alarm, still on his own side of the bed, his back towards Bartra. Marc blinked and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He had assumed that it was just a natural instinct to get close to a source of warmth. It would explain why he always moved towards Sergi in his sleep, but maybe there was a different reason for his sleeping habits. Maybe it had more to do with Sergi than natural instinct.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

**4\. July, 2011**

“Why did we pick this one again?” Sergi groaned, changing his grip on his end of the couch, the muscles in his arms straining under the weight.

“Because it was the most comfortable one,” Marc grunted back, lifting the other end.

“Almost there,” Sergi muttered, eying the last steps of the stairs. With one last exertion they got the couch on their floor and Sergi set his end down, flexing his hands and rolling his shoulders.

“You guys need a hand with that?” Gómez asked, leaning out of the open apartment.

“We needed a hand five minutes ago,” Sergi grumbled but nodded anyway, moving to the side to make space for Gómez.

With the three of them, they got the couch into the apartment and next to the other couch they had carried up earlier. Sergi plopped down on the couch, slumping into the soft cushions, taking a break from the heavy lifting and moving.

“Was that everything?” Marc asked as he sat down next to Sergi, their knees touching. Gómez took the other couch, leaning back with his eyes closed.

“I think so, yeah,” Sergi said, looking around. The living room of their new apartment was empty besides the two couches and a TV, boxes from Ikea stacked in a corner, together with boxes filled with Sergi’s and Marc’s belongings.

“This is the last one,” Iván announced as he walked inside, carrying an Ikea box. He put it down next to the rest and sat down besides Gómez.

“Thanks,” Sergi nodded at him and Iván offered him a tired smile.

“Anyone want pizza?” Marc asked a few minutes later, holding his phone up. Sergi nodded, copied by Iván and Gómez and Marc placed their orders.

Their pizza arrived quickly and Sergi discovered that they forgot to buy plates. It earned him a ribbing from Gómez. Marc had to dig through the boxes in the kitchen to find a pizza cutter, eventually having to settle for scissors with another item added on the list of things they still had to buy. They used the pizza boxes as make-shift plates and, hungry from all the carrying and lifting, Sergi wolfed down his pizza.

Iván and Gómez stayed after the pizzas were finished to help with putting the bedframes together, which involved a lot of cursing at the vague figures and instructions. In the end, they had two solid bedframes standing and Iván and Gómez left, promising to come by tomorrow again to help some more.

Exhausted, Sergi made his bed. His room was still a mess with unopened Ikea boxes that contained his new bookcase, desk and wardrobe, another stack of boxes with his belongings, mostly filled with clothes. Sergi ignored the mess as he got ready for bed, wishing Marc goodnight and was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

 

~*~*~

 

The following day was spent carrying kitchen appliances up the stairs, Sergi calling Bartra and Carles in as reinforcements in addition to Iván and Gómez. The apartment got rather crowded but Sergi didn’t mind. It made carrying the fridge and the dishwasher up the stairs easier. They ordered pizza again to thank everybody, still using the scissors to cut the pizzas.

Bartra, Iván and Gómez left but Carles stayed to help them unpack the boxes in the kitchen, putting everything away. Sergi and Marc kept a to-buy list that got longer and longer the more boxes they unpacked, with plates and a pizza cutter on top of the list.

They thanked Carles with more pizza and spent the rest of the night playing _FIFA 12_ and arguing about what they needed to buy the next morning to replace everything they couldn’t take with them from the old apartment.

 

~*~*~

 

Sergi dipped his paint roller into the light blue paint, letting it soak up the paint, before lifting it to the wall again, rolling up and down in even strokes. The newspaper crinkled underneath his bare feet as he shifted around and the smell of paint hung heavy in the air, even with the window opened as wide as it could. One wall was already done and Marc was painting the other wall.

They didn’t talk much, music was playing from the iPod Sergi had hooked up on speakers. It was nice to just paint after two days of heavy lifting and a hectic morning of shopping, getting into arguments Sergi never had envisioned of having with Marc, about plate designs and what kind of pots and pans they would need.

It was warm and Sergi swiped the edge over his shirt over his face, wiping up the sweat. He wanted to run a hand through his hair, his curls sticking to his forehead, but his hand was covered in paint splatters and he didn’t fancy getting paint in his hair.

“I’m done,” Marc announced and Sergi looked over. The wall looked good at first glance, Sergi getting distracted by Marc lifting up his shirt, wiping his face off before letting the shirt go, covering up his bared skin.

“Looks good,” Sergi nodded, looking at the wall again. Marc smiled and picked up his painting supplies, moving to the wall Sergi was painting. He started on the other side, slowly working towards where Sergi was painting.

 

It took half an hour to finish the wall Sergi was painting and they dropped the paint rollers, admiring their work.

“Hey, you have paint on your face,” Marc said, poking Sergi in the side.

“I’m not the only one,” Sergi grinned when he noticed the streak of bright blue paint on Marc’s left cheek.

“What, where?” Marc asked, touching his face and smearing the paint a little.

“You have some nice war paint going on. No, don’t touch it, you are making it worse,” Sergi batted Marc’s hands away, handing him a rag instead.

“Thanks,” Marc smiled, carefully wiping the rag over his face. It didn’t help a lot and Sergi laughed.

“That’s not working. Take a shower, I will clean up and order sushi,” he said, taking the rag back.

Marc left the room and Sergi quickly cleaned up, putting the lid back on the can and collecting the paint rollers and brushes, soaking them in a bucket of water to clean them.

He was ordering sushi when Marc appeared paint-free from the shower and Sergi took his place when he was done ordering. He had to laugh when he looked in the mirror, splatters of paint all over his face, luckily not in his hair. He took off the old and worn training shirt he was wearing, also covered in paint, and stepped into the shower.

 

The sushi was delivered just when he was done showering and changed into paint-free clothes. He quickly set the table with their new plates and got beers out of the fridge, uncapping them.

Marc returned to the apartment carrying two bags and Sergi relieved him of one, unpacking the boxes of sushi and rice.

“Shall we paint your room tomorrow?” Sergi asked as they sat down, filling their plates. Sergi used the complimentary chopsticks to eat, having gone for sushi often enough to be proficient in eating with them.

“Sounds like a plan,” Marc nodded.

 

They watched a film after dinner, sprawling out on the couches, and Sergi drifted off a little, waking up when something exploded on TV with a lot of noise.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Marc said when Sergi sat up a little, rubbing at his eyes. Sergi glanced over, taking in how rumpled Marc looked.

“Morning yourself, hypocrite,” Sergi replied, sticking his tongue out. Marc opened his mouth, most likely to argue, but yawned instead. Sergi looked away but he was too late, having to yawn as well.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, standing up. Marc nodded and turned the TV off.

Sergi went to the bathroom to brush his teeth before going into his room. The smell off paint still hung heavy in the air and Sergi could feel a headache coming up already. He quickly changed into his pyjama shorts, electing to go without shirt tonight, their apartment warm, and grabbed his blanket and pillow from his bed.

He almost bumped into Marc when he walked out of his room and Marc glanced at the blanket and pillow in Sergi’s arms.

“I’m getting a headache from the paint smell so I’ll sleep on the couch,” Sergi explained and Marc nodded, understanding. He wished him goodnight and disappearing into his own room. Sergi made up the couch and fell asleep quickly.

 

He woke up in the middle of the night, his back hurting, and Sergi groaned as he shifted on the couch, trying to find a better position for his back.

He gave up twenty minutes later, his back hurting too much and the couch not comfortable enough to sleep on. He looked at the other couch before deciding that it most likely was just as uncomfortable to spend a whole night on as the one he was lying on now.

He got up, grabbed his pillow, and moved to his room, opening the door and sniffing the air. The smell had gotten less intense but it would still give him a headache. He closed the door and walked to Marc’s room, carefully opening the door.

Marc’s room was dark and Sergi could barely make out the outline of Marc’s bed. He crossed the room and felt around before he found Marc’s shoulder, gently shaking him.

“Marc, hey, wake up,” Sergi whispered, shaking a little harder when Marc didn’t respond.

He withdrew his hand when Marc groaned and moved away from Sergi’s touch. He grumbled something inaudible that Sergi decided to interpret as a very annoyed “what”.

“Can I sleep with you?” Sergi asked in a whisper. Marc mumbled something that sounded grumpy and annoyed but he moved back, making space. Sergi grinned and put his pillow down, getting underneath the blanket. Marc’s bed wasn’t as big as the beds they share in hotel rooms but there was enough room to not be touching.

“Thanks,” Sergi whispered as he tugged on the blanket a little, settling in. Marc mumbled something again, sounding a little less annoyed. Sergi smiled and closed his eyes, falling asleep easily.

 

He was warm when he woke up, a weight over his waist, a solid, warm chest pressed against his back and Sergi tensed up. He glanced down, seeing Marc’s arm draped over him, his hand pressed against Sergi’s stomach.

He slowly relaxed when he realised that Marc was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling slowly. His breaths stirred the hairs in Sergi’s neck, giving him slight goose bumps.

It wasn’t that different to the way they sometimes woke up when they roomed together, it certainly wasn’t the first time Sergi had woken up being spooned by Marc, but it was the first time they were sharing the same blanket. To make it worse, or maybe better, they were both only wearing pyjama shorts.

Sergi reached down and covered Marc’s hand with his own, closing his eyes again. If he moved away, he would wake up Marc and after waking his best friend up in the middle of the night, he decided he should let Marc sleep. Besides, he didn’t mind being spooned like this. It felt good and Marc was warm against his still aching back, soothing it slightly.

 

Marc woke up half an hour later and Sergi could feel him tense against his back, his arm tightening on his waist. Sergi closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to fake being asleep. He felt Marc carefully moving away and Sergi missed the warmth against his back almost immediately.

“Wake up, Sergi,” Marc said softly, shaking him a little and Sergi faked waking up.

“Wha?” he mumbled, rolling on his back and stretching out.

“Why are you in my bed?” Marc asked and Sergi turned to face him. Marc looked confused and maybe even a little freaked out.

“You don’t remember? The couch was killing my back and I woke you up to ask if I could sleep with you.”

“Oh,” Marc mumbled, the freaked out look fading away to Sergi’s relief.

“You can sleep with me tonight, if you want. After we paint your room. That couch is not nice on backs,” Sergi offered.

“I think I will, thanks,” Marc nodded and Sergi smiled at him.

“Good. Now let’s get up, we have a room to paint!” Sergi exclaimed, slapping Marc’s leg and getting out of bed. Marc laughed and followed him, throwing Sergi’s pillow at his head.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

**5\. June, 2013**

“Sergi,” Joan said, leaning over the back of Sergi’s seat, drawing Sergi’s attention. Marc paused the song they were listening to when Sergi took out the earbud of the earphones they were sharing and turned to face Joan.

“You want to room with me?” Joan asked, making Marc frown.

“Yeah, sure,” Sergi nodded and Joan grinned, disappearing again. Marc quickly stopped frowning when Sergi turned back and offered him an earbud. Sergi put it in and Marc pressed play, continuing the song.

Marc barely heard the music as he brooded. He had assumed that Sergi would room with him, just like last year when they were on Ibiza. Clearly Sergi had different ideas about that, seeing how easily he agreed to room with Joan. He hadn’t even glanced at Marc before answering.

Sergi’s voice broke through Marc’s thoughts and he looked up, noticing that the song was over.

“What?” he asked when Sergi looked at him, seeming to expect something. Sergi sighed, laughing a little as he handed the earbud back to Marc.

“I said, good song. Where did you find it?”

“Oh, Morata sent it to me,” Marc explained.

“Sharing music with the enemy?” Sergi asked, raising his eyebrows, grinning a little.

“Can’t help it when the enemy has a good taste in music,” Marc shrugged.

“True. Send me the song?” Sergi asked, taking his phone out.

“Sure,” Marc fiddled with his phone and sent the song. An alert from Sergi’s phone let them know it was successful and Sergi grinned.

“Thanks man,” he said, getting his own earphones out and putting them in. Marc smiled back weakly and did the same, turning up the volume to block out the noise of the plane and the talking people around him.

He didn’t like it at all, Sergi rooming with Joan if he was honest with himself. It felt like Sergi had been doing his best to not room with Marc lately and Marc was worried he had done something to chase Sergi away. Sergi hadn’t roomed with him since he got back from his knee injury, opting to room with Joan or Carles instead.

Maybe Sergi had noticed Marc’s sleeping habits, but Marc didn’t think so. Sergi wasn’t the type to ignore a problem and he hadn’t said anything to Marc about it. It probably was something else, but Marc was hesitant to confront Sergi about it in case it was about his sleeping habits. That was a subject Marc didn’t particularly want to discuss with Sergi.

Sergi nudged Marc’s side and Marc looked up, taking his earphones out.

“We’re going to land, you got to turn your phone off,” Sergi said, gesturing at the stewardess that was standing a few rows ahead.

“Oh,” Marc mumbled but nodded his thanks at Sergi, turning his phone off and buckling up again, looking out the window to see the ground coming closer.

 

“Bartra, do you have a roommate yet?” Marc asked as they got into the rented cars, Gómez driving theirs.

“No, why?” Bartra asked, sounding confused.

“I still need one,” Marc shrugged, trying to go for nonchalant. Judging from the incredulous look on Bartra’s face, he failed.

“Aren’t you rooming with Sergi?” Gómez asked from the front. He was staring at Marc via the rearview mirror, Iván turned around in the passenger seat with a confused look, eyebrows drawn together.

Marc shrugged again.

“Joan asked before I could,” he mumbled, busying himself with buckling up.

“I guess we can room together,” Bartra eventually said as Gómez drove off, following the car in front of them to the house they had rented for their holiday.

“All right, great,” Marc muttered, trying to sound a little enthusiastic. He clearly failed at that too as Bartra kept shooting worried glances at him during the drive.

 

~*~*~

 

The rest of the day was spent lounging around the pool, diving into the cool water when they got too hot. It was good to catch up with Rubén, Adrià and Martí again and Marc got out of his funk, especially after pushing Joan in the pool, diving in after him.

They went to several parties on the island, meeting several other football players like Iker Muniain and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain from Arsenal. Marc took a picture of Sergi with the Arsenal player before having Sergi do the same for him.

They rented a boat for a day, uploading the most ridiculous videos on Instagram and swam a lot before returning to the shore.

The last evening was spent in their rented place, throwing their own small party, inviting a few friends they had bumped into on the island. The house was full, the kitchen overflowing with snacks and drinks, music pumping out of the speaker system.

 

~*~*~

 

“Marc, are you here?” Sergi’s voice called out and Marc glanced up, twisting around to see Sergi walk out of the house, music and light drifting outside with him.

“Yeah,” Marc called back, lying down on his lounge chair again. A door slid close and the music faded into the background, only the bass audible again. Footsteps drew closer and Sergi stepped into Marc’s view.

“So this is where you disappeared to,” Sergi said, sitting down on the chair next to Marc’s. “You’re missing a great party inside,” he continued, taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.

“I’m sure it is a good party,” Marc replied, staring up at the sky. It was a clear, cool night, with a few stars visible and a silvery slice of moon hung high in the sky. He had a thin blanket draped over his legs to keep them warm. He glanced over when Sergi lay down on his chair, his shoulder brushing against Marc’s.

“Aren’t you going back inside?” he asked, looking back at the sky again. He was trying to spot constellations but the light pollution was too much.

“Nah, it is a bit too crowded and too hot. It is nice outside,” Sergi answered, their shoulders brushing again when he shrugged.

“I’m not great company,” Marc warned and Sergi shrugged again.

“I don’t mind,” Sergi countered. Marc’s lip twitched and he reached down, spreading the blanket over both their legs. Sergi tilted his beer bottle in Marc’s direction before taking another swig.

 

They lay there in silence, music drifting from the house in the background, the water of the pool slopping against the walls when a soft breeze started up. Marc was lost in his thoughts, still gazing at the stars.

His contract was up at Barcelona and he had many offers, from Spain and England and the Netherlands. Marc knew he had to accept one soon, before the pre-season would start. He just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to leave the club, didn’t want to leave the city and all his friends. He had a life in Barcelona, a home he shared with Sergi, and he was only a one hour drive away from his family. He didn’t want to leave all that behind.

A loud sigh and the clinking of a beer bottle being set down on stone pulled Marc from his thoughts and he looked around, spotting Sergi running an agitated hand through his hair.

“I’m going to miss you,” Sergi muttered just as Marc opened his mouth to ask what was wrong. Marc’s mouth snapped shut as he tensed up. They hadn’t discussed it yet, what it meant that Marc’s contract was running out and the club not offering a renewal. Marc had been reluctant to speak about it, not wanting to face the fact that he would have to move out and Sergi not breaching the subject either.

“Yeah,” was the only thing Marc could say.

“I’m going to miss you too,” he added after a minute of tense silence.

“Yeah?” Sergi asked and that question was so ridiculous that Marc had to laugh.

“Of course I’m going to miss you, stupid,” he said, draping an arm over Sergi’s shoulder and dragging him in for a hug. Sergi got his arms around Marc and hugged back, his grip almost too tight.

Sergi pulled back slightly after a while, long after Marc’s smile faded and the sadness returned. Marc didn’t remove the arm he had over Sergi’s shoulder and Sergi ended up leaning against Marc, half draped over his side.

“Did you make a decision yet?” Sergi asked after a few minutes.

“Probably England, I have a few offers there,” Marc was fiddling with Sergi’s shirt, brushing over his skin occasionally.

“Not Spain?” Sergi sounded surprised and Marc smiled ruefully.

“And play against you, against Barça?” Marc shook his head, “I wouldn’t be able to give it my all.”

Sergi didn’t press for which English clubs and Marc was glad. He wanted to come to a decision himself and he valued Sergi’s opinion too much to not take it into consideration if Sergi gave it.

They fell silent again, the wind picking up and the air getting cooler. Sergi shifted closer, shivering a little and Marc tugged the blanket up till their chests. He rubbed his hand over what he could reach of Sergi’s arm until the goose bumps went away.

“I’m going to miss playing with you, we barely played together this season,” Marc mumbled after a long time, music no longer playing from the house. He craned his neck as best as he could and couldn’t spot any light coming from the house either. Marc had no idea what time it was, he wasn’t wearing a watch and his phone was still inside, but it probably was late. He didn’t feel like going inside yet and face Bartra who, unlike Sergi who knew when not to push, would badger Marc about what was wrong. Moreover, he was comfortable here, Sergi warm against his side and shoulder.

“We still get to play together on the U21,” Sergi said in reply and Marc hummed. He didn’t mention that it was only true if the coach called the both of them up and Marc wasn’t too sure about him getting called up again after barely playing in this month’s tournament.

“Don’t worry, Lopetegui will call you up,” Sergi said and Marc looked at him, a little surprised, having forgotten how well Sergi could read him. Sergi was smiling softly and he looked tired, eyelids drooping a little.

“Hopefully,” Marc replied, tipping his head back to look at the sky again. More stars had appeared and Marc could finally spot a constellation, the Big Dipper.

Silence fell between them, tiredness finally setting in. Marc let his eyes fall shut, deciding to close them just for a moment.

 

He was jolted awake some time later, one side of his body cold, the other warm. Sergi was lying against his side, his head on Marc’s shoulder, an arm slung over Marc’s chest. Marc still had his arm over Sergi’s shoulders, his hand resting on Sergi’s bicep.

“Sergi,” he whispered before noticing that Sergi had his eyes closed, face slack. Marc smiled at the sight, warmth flooding his chest. He reached down, dragging the blanket up so it covered the both of them and shifted into a more comfortable position, being careful not to dislodge Sergi from his shoulder.

“Night,” Marc whispered, pressing a kiss into Sergi’s hair and resting his cheek on top of Sergi’s head, closing his eyes, sleep coming quickly.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

**+1.** **February, 2014**

Sergi rang the bell and looked at the address on his phone again before putting the device back in his pocket. He fidgeted a little as he waited for the door to open, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It was near midnight and Sergi was worried for a moment that Marc was already asleep.

He heard footsteps behind the door right before the door opened to reveal Marc. Sergi smiled at him, grinning when Marc’s mouth dropped open.

“Sergi!” Marc exclaimed after he recovered, stepping forward to pull Sergi into a hug. Sergi let go of the bag he was carrying, letting it drop on the ground with thud, and hugged Marc back, pressing his face into Marc’s shoulder.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow,” Marc muttered. Sergi felt a hand run down his back, coming to a stop on his lower back.

“I changed tickets for the evening flight,” Sergi murmured back, squeezing Marc close before taking a step back, picking up his bag.

“Come on in,” Marc held the door open and Sergi stepped inside the hallway. He shrugged off his coat, Stoke significantly colder than Barcelona, and followed Marc further into the living room. Most of the lights were off and the curtains already closed.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Sergi asked, feeling a little guilty.

“No, no, I was just getting ready for bed,” Marc answered, putting Sergi at ease.

Marc switched on some more lights, gesturing for Sergi to put his bag down and sit on the couch.

“You want anything?” he asked, picking up an empty glass from the table.

“To be honest, I want a bed. I’m exhausted,” Sergi said, smiling tiredly at Marc.

“Okay, good, I have an early practise tomorrow morning,” Marc smiled in response and offered a hand to pull Sergi up from the couch. He grabbed Sergi’s bag and Sergi had no other choice but to follow him upstairs.

“I already got the guest room ready for you. This is the bathroom, the guestroom and that is my room,” Marc explained, gesturing at the doors. He opened the door to the guestroom and went inside, setting Sergi’s bag down on the bed.

“If you need towels, you can just grab them out of the closet in the bathroom,” Marc continued, looking like he wanted to go to the bathroom and get towels for Sergi himself.

“Marc, relax. I just need to brush my teeth and change into pyjamas, I’m too tired for anything else. You can give me a tour of the place tomorrow, all right?” Sergi interrupted Marc, hiding a yawn behind his hand.

“All right,” Marc grinned, stepping forward to hug Sergi again.

“I missed you,” Marc whispered.

“I missed you too. Our apartment is so empty without you,” Sergi replied, taking a deep breath to catch Marc’s familiar scent.

“Lies,” Marc said when he stepped back, smiling. “Bartra was staying with you.”

“Not the same,” Sergi protested and Marc smile widened.

“Goodnight, Sergi,” Marc said when Sergi yawned again.

“Night Marc,” Sergi responded and Marc left the room. Sergi ran a hand through his hair and turned to his bag, zipping it open to get his pyjamas out. He changed quickly and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He got underneath the warm blankets, deciding that Marc had picked the softest sheets he could find, and fell asleep in no time.

 

~*~*~

 

Sergi went with Marc to his training session the next morning, bundling up against the cold with a scarf and hat he borrowed from Marc. Marc’s coach had no problem with Sergi watching and Sergi settled down while the players started to warm up. The instructions were shouted in rapid English, too fast for Sergi to understand, but Marc seemed to get it, running the drills the coach wanted him to run.

After training, Marc introduced Sergi to his new teammates, a few jokingly asking whether Sergi was their new teammate. Sergi briefly entertained the idea of playing together with Marc again every weekend before shaking his head. He wanted to try to make it at Barça before considering changing clubs.

Marc showed him around Stoke in the afternoon and they picked a cosy little restaurant for dinner, getting shown to a small table in a corner, the lighting low, casting shadows over Marc’s face. It felt intimate, having dinner like this, and their conversation flowed less freely than usually, nerves fluttering in Sergi’s stomach.

Sergi wasn’t the only one that was nervous as Marc drummed his fingers against the steering wheel when he drove them back to his place, glancing at Sergi and looking away again when Sergi caught his gaze.

 

~*~*~

 

“Here,” Marc held out a bottle of beer and Sergi took it, his fingers brushing against Marc’s as he wrapped them around the cool glass.

“Thanks,” Sergi said, taking a sip before setting the bottle down on the table.

Marc nodded and sat down on the couch, right next to Sergi, the rest of the couch empty. Sergi wasn’t sure what to say or do. There was a tension between them, ever since their dinner at the restaurant, a tension Sergi could only describe as nervous, almost expectant.

Marc lifted his beer to his lips, talking a large gulp, and Sergi watched as Marc’s tongue flickered out, chasing stray drops of beer from his lips. He swallowed, throat dry, his gaze locked on Marc’s wet lips, looking soft and plush.

He barely noticed Marc putting his bottle down, turning to face Sergi. He glanced up, meeting Marc’s wide brown eyes, and his eyes flickered back when Marc licked his lips again.

“Sergi,” Marc murmured, his voice deep and slightly hoarse, and something inside Sergi snapped, longing and want and lust flooding him. He surged forward, pressing his lips against Marc’s. He felt Marc gasp, his eyes wide and brown before they fluttered shut, kissing Sergi back.

Sergi whimpered and pressed himself closer to Marc, running a hand through his hair. Marc’s stubble tickled and Sergi couldn’t help but notice how different kissing Marc was compared to kissing a girl. For once, he had never wanted to kiss a girl as much as he wanted to kiss Marc. Besides that, girls let him control the kiss and set the pace, with Marc it was a constant battle for control and Sergi loved every second of it.

Sergi pulled away when he needed air, leaning his forehead against Marc’s as he took deep breaths. His hand was still in Marc’s hair, fingers playing with the little strands at the back.

“Sergi,” Marc murmured again, bringing his hands up to frame Sergi’s face. Sergi shivered, Marc’s hands big and calloused. Marc ran his thumbs over Sergi’s cheeks and Sergi had to close his eyes, pressing his face into Marc’s touch.

“Why did you kiss me?” Marc asked and Sergi opened his eyes again. Marc looked serious, his eyebrows drawn together and frowning. Sergi reached out, framing Marc’s face and running a thumb over the frown, smoothing it away.

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time,” Sergi finally replied, shocked at how hoarse his voice was. He heard Marc’s breath hitch and he smiled right before Marc kissed him hard.

“What about you?” Sergi asked, breathing hard, when Marc moved back. Marc blinked, looking like he completely lost track of their conversation.

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” Sergi elaborated.

“Since 2011, maybe even earlier,” Marc mumbled, looking embarrassed. Sergi groaned softly, shaking his head.

“We could have been doing this so much sooner,” Sergi explained when Marc looked confused again. He looked adorable when he was confused, Sergi could finally admit to himself. He moved to straddle Marc’s lap, his back hurting from the twisted way he was sitting. Marc’s hands flew to his hips, stabilising him when he wobbled a little.

“How much sooner?” Marc asked, running his hands up Sergi’s sides.

“Summer of 2011, after we moved in together,” Sergi said and Marc groaned too.

“We’re so stupid.”

“Yes, now shut up so we can kiss, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” Sergi agreed, tangling his hands into Marc’s hair again now that he was allowed to touch it. Marc’s answering grin sent a shiver down Sergi’s back and Marc tugged him down, kissing him again.

 

They made out on the couch, hands tentatively wandering under shirts, growing bolder with each approving moan. They ended up lying horizontal on the couch, Marc leaning over Sergi, his shirt pushed up to his armpits, Sergi running his hands appreciatively over the bared skin, scratching his nails down Marc’s side to see Marc shudder.

They were slowing down, from frantic and hard kisses to slow and soft. Sergi wasn’t ready to go further than this and neither was Marc, who had started slowing them down.

Sergi giggled when Marc yawned into their kiss and Marc pulled away, eyes sparkling, his face flushed and his lips swollen. He tugged his shirt down and sat back, Sergi moving to sit up. He ran a hand through his mushed up hair before covering up his own yawn.

“I’m tired,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

“Me too,” Marc offered Sergi a hand to get up from the couch, Sergi letting the momentum carry him close to Marc so he could kiss him again, a quick peck against his lips.

They went upstairs, Sergi slipping into his room to change into pyjamas, shorts and a shirt, before going to the bathroom. Marc was already inside, brushing his teeth and Sergi joined him at the sink, looking at their reflexion. They looked so domestic, standing side by side, brushing their teeth. It made Sergi smile around his toothbrush.

They left the bathroom and Sergi pulled Marc close so he could kiss him goodnight, Marc’s lips tasting of toothpaste. Sergi turned to his room, opening the door.

“Sergi,” Marc said, hesitantly, and Sergi paused in the doorway of his room, turning to look at Marc. Marc was looking at the floor, shuffling his feet, not looking at Sergi as he continued.

“Do you want to sleep with me? Just sleeping, nothing else! I just… I like it when we sleep together,” Marc mumbled.

Sergi smiled and closed the door of his room, walking up to Marc and lifting his head up with a finger under his chin.

“Of course I will sleep with you,” Sergi whispered and kissed Marc short and sweet. Marc was smiling afterwards and led the way to his room.

He had a large double bed, enough space for two grown young men to sleep comfortably without touching. They still ended up in the middle of the bed, Sergi facing Marc, their legs tangled together. Sergi leaned forward to kiss Marc again, just their lips brushing together, running a hand down Marc’s back before coming to a rest on his waist.

“Good night,” he whispered when he leaned back, leaving his hand on Marc’s waist.

“Night,” Marc whispered back, smiling. Sergi smiled back, shifting closer to Marc, closing his eyes.

He fell asleep quickly, feeling safe and warm with Marc this close.

 

He woke up the next morning, the weak February sun lighting up the room. He wasn’t surprised to find that they were spooning, Marc pressed against Sergi’s back, his arm over Sergi’s waist. Sergi’s shirt was pushed up and Marc’s hand was resting on Sergi’s stomach.

Sergi smiled and he ran his hand over Marc’s arm, no longer having to stop himself from doing that. He traces Marc’s skin, smooth under his fingers, and tangled their fingers together when he reached Marc’s hand.

He felt Marc wake up, shifting behind him. He didn’t move away like he usually did when they woke up like this. He pressed closer instead, arm around Sergi tightening to pull him closer.

“Morning,” Marc murmured, voice hoarse from sleep. Sergi felt lips brush over his neck and he smiled, cuddling closer into Marc’s warm chest.

“Morning,” Sergi replied. “You know, I woke up like this in your bed, back in 2011. You remember, after we painted my room and I crawled into your bed in the middle of the night, after the couch killed my back?” Sergi waited until he heard Marc mumble a “yeah”. “I think that was the moment I realised I was head over heels for you,” Sergi continued fondly.

Marc’s breath hitched and he tugged on Sergi, making him turn around to face Marc. Marc looked rumpled, still tired, but his eyes were wide, filled with an emotion Sergi couldn’t place.

“Sergi,” Marc said, his voice sounding wrecked, and he pressed closer to Sergi, kissing him. It was frantic, teeth clashing, until Sergi angled his head and parted his lips.

Marc’s hands ran over his body, pushing at his shoulder, forcing Sergi to roll onto his back. Marc followed him, straddling his thighs, breaking the kiss in the process.

Sergi looked up at Marc, panting, and his heart skipped a beat. Marc’s face was flushed, his brown eyes shining with emotions Sergi was afraid to name. Marc smiled and gently cupped Sergi’s face between his hands, thumbs gliding over Sergi’s cheeks.

Marc leaned down, brushing his lips over Sergi’s, murmuring “me too, Sergi. I’m so gone for you” before kissing him again.

 

~*~*~

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a line from Blaumut’s [Esquimals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZKxyDOykvw).
> 
> **1\. September, 2006.**
> 
> The guys mentioned in this part are Marc Bartra, Adrià Carmona, Rubén Rochina, Iván Balliu, Carles Planas and Sergi Gómez. They were all in _la Masia_ when Sergi joined in 2006. I am unsure about how close they all were but based on the fact that they went to Ibiza the last three summers, I assume that they became good friends while they all were at _la Masia._
> 
> [This](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/58324223726/sergi-roberto-2006) is, I believe, a picture of Sergi the day he joined _la Masia_. I am not sure which team Sergi played on when he joined, but based on his age, I have him joining the Cadet B side.
> 
> **2\. July, 2007**
> 
> Jan Muniesa is Marc’s younger brother.
> 
> To my knowledge, Sergi didn’t visit Marc in Lloret de Mar that summer. However, they became good friends so it is plausible that Sergi did.
> 
> **3\. October, 2010**
> 
> Barça B played in the Segunda in the 2010/11 season, coached by Luis Enrique. The season before that, Barça B played in the Segunda B.
> 
> It is mentioned that Marc Bartra, Sergi Gómez, Ivan Balliu, Carles Planas, Sergi and Marc live together. To my knowledge, they didn’t live together but I have stumbled across some pictures that could support this idea. (The pictures have gone missing since.)
> 
> The game were Marc got a red card was [this](http://www.worldfootball.net/report/segunda-division-2010-2011-cordoba-cf-fc-barcelona-b/) one. [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FVHf_GqNiA) are some highlights of that game.
> 
> The game where Sergi got injured was an away game against Salamanca. Barça B won 3-2, Sergi scoring the first goal. [Here](http://www.worldfootball.net/report/segunda-division-2010-2011-ud-salamanca-fc-barcelona-b/) are some match details.
> 
> **4\. July, 2011**
> 
> Sergi and Marc lived together in an apartment up until Marc moved to Stoke. I am unsure when they moved in together so I picked the summer before the 2011/12 season where I am relatively sure that they lived together.
> 
> I have no idea whether everything else mentioned in this part is true or not.
> 
> **5\. June, 2013**
> 
> Sergi, Marc, Marc Bartra, Sergi Gómez, Ivan Balliu, Carles Planas, Martí Riverola, Rubén Rochina, Adrià Carmona & Joan Román went to Ibiza together where they stayed in a house with a pool. This is after Marc and Bartra won the UEFA U21 tournament in Israel together, earlier that same month.
> 
> They met [Iker Muniain](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/53781987698) and [Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/53760658755) while on Ibiza.
> 
> They rented a [boat](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/54006403168) and [uploaded](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/54026325326) a bunch of [videos](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/54025866025) on Instagram.
> 
> **+1. February, 2014**
> 
> Marc moved to Stoke City on a free transfer after his contract ran out in 2013.
> 
> Sergi visited Marc in [February](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/77613559074) and they went out for [dinner](http://whitewolfcraft.tumblr.com/post/77597201093).


End file.
